


The Morning After

by Sintina



Series: Your Brain on Ice [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Never Sleep Again, OMG this Show!, Who's Your Eros?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-09 22:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8916337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintina/pseuds/Sintina
Summary: Thanks to the banquet pics and video, everything between them finally makes sense. Eight months of pent-up desire is released. So, this is why Yuri is so different on the ice in episode 11? Immediately follows “Dance Off Revisited.” Gets to the good stuff.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [all_those_big_ass_trees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_those_big_ass_trees/gifts).



> Thank you to for the language lesson. Much more fun than Google translate!
> 
> 'Suka B'lyad- Bitch fuck/er!  
> Dorogoy!- darling/dear!  
> Bozhe Moy!- My God!  
> Detka- baby/lover  
> And, yeah, Yuri gets some:  
> Hai...Hai!- Yes... Yes!  
> takara- treasure

Yuri feels Victor moving up on the pillow. He hears the click. _Oh come on. Did he seriously just?_ Another click, and then another. Yuri’s blush overwhelms his entire face. The inevitable enthusiastic ~pings~ begin to echo; devastating Yuri's peaceful joy upon waking up with his cheek pressed to Victor’s naked chest.

“Please tell me you didn’t just upload a selfie of us in bed?” Yuri keeps his eyes tightly shut, his fingers curl into Victor’s ribs, threatening. He can see it now, if he wins on the ice today: 'Yuri gets laid, breaks the internet, then a world record!' No pressure, Victor, damn. But then he smirks. "Don't forget to tag it _Victuuri_."

"What?! Spell it."

Yuri does. "That's what they call us. Ever since you kissed me on live television."

"Like Victory?" He Googles it. The fanart and fanfiction titles alone are enough to turn his pale cheeks pink. 

Yuri giggles and snuggles in tighter. "Just tag it." His lashes flutter lazily. "Trust me, takara Vitya."

“Go back to sleep.” Victor orders in a whisper. “It’s early.” He begins to untangle himself from his sleeping beauty. Yuri snorts in disapproval, but is still exhausted and does not need to be told twice. He’s asleep again before Victor is fully dressed. The Russian resists the urge to peck him on the cheek in farewell and instead stands over Yuri, watching his eyes roll beneath their lids.

The cry of seagulls and the crash of waves, a flawless morning for the Grand Prix Final. As Victor looks out over the ocean, the sun rises and casts lens-flares off his engagement ring. Victor smiles stupidly at the effect. Yesterday, last night, was the climax to eight months of anticipation. An engagement ring and then a resolution to all the Agape vs. Eros confusion between them since last year's banquet. Victor was wrong about so many things when it came to Yuri. Now, as the sun casts prisms bouncing off his ring, Victor feels sure about everything. When Victor inhales the salty sea air, it passes through a still-present tang clinging to the inside of his nose and mouth. The lingering scent and taste are a heady cocktail of Yuri's sweat and saliva and... 

Yurio kicks him in the back.

Victor's heart thrashes as he watches Yurio stomp away. _'Suka b'lyad!_ Dammit, Victor loves him and loves to hate him. And sometimes he honestly hopes he wasn't so callous and rude at that age. But maybe he was? Maybe that's where Yurio got it from. His hand was trembling when he clutched Yurio’s face. It shakes still. He clenches and unclenches the finger joints. He tries to calm down. These emotions are too raw. Yuri was right to stop them from going any further last night. Not in the middle of competition. It would be madness to go any further right now. His right thumb finds his ring finger and twirls the engagement ring with a bit of nervous energy.

The warm sensation of the ring settles his mind. How fascinating it is to see the ripples of Yuri's 'L-words' flow through everyone his fiancé encounters. Yurio is changed. The experience in Japan is a thumbprint at a crime scene; framing Yurio guilty of inexperience and immaturity. Since then, months of practice have prepared the tiny tiger for this battlefield like nothing else ever could. And the kid is not unappreciative. After being put in his place, Yurio mentioned the sea in Japan. Coming from Yurio, that was practically an apology; a memory spoken aloud to reconnect with Victor. The Russian doesn't know what it's like to idolize someone your whole life, from childhood. He forgets sometimes that Yurio is just a kid, still. Victor's breath calms down, finally. He takes one last, long look at the sunrise. He walks down the boardwalk in Yurio's footsteps. The tiny tiger does try to be human with people. Last night, Yuri whispered the tale of his birthday present from Yurio in Russia. Victor hates he missed that!

Last night, Victor's pace slows, he wants to linger in the memories before starting the insanity of this day. Lying in bed, holding one another in a naked embrace, for the first time. Last night, heaven and earth, last night. The raw drama of the banquet photos, the reminiscent dancing, a kiss which held everything, on the floor, and then...

............

This can’t be happening, can it? This isn’t real.

They rise together in their kiss from the floor, Yuri crawling over Victor, pressing the coach's back to the bed, tearing at his shirt, ripping it violently over Victor’s head, and going for the clasp of his pants. Victor’s hands aren't fast enough, his mind not processing this quickly enough, to respond by undressing Yuri.

It doesn’t matter, Eros has whisked away his own clothing with the exception of those wonderful black boy shorts. The kiss lasts and lasts. They're swallowing one another whole. Yuri is sloppy with it. Victor regains the use of his hands, remembering what to do with them besides clinging to bedsheets. He takes control of the kiss. Grabs the back of Yuri's neck, his hair, repositions Yuri's mouth, lunges into it with his tongue. 

Yuri gulps air in Victor's mouth, panting "Hai...Hai!" in the brief moments their lips part. His needful thumbs press and swirl Victor's nipples. Victor chomps his teeth at Yuri's lips as Yuri pulls away, lowers his head, sups on an erect nipple like it might actually feed him. 

"Dorogoy! Bozhe moy!" Victor exhales, his hands press down Yuri's spine, rippling over sinew and bone. His fingers find purchase clinging to Yuri's spandex slick cheeks for dear life. Yuri's ass, it's so firm. Nothing about Yuri seems soft or pliable. Victor swells with pride at how well he toned his little piggy up! His palms glide and cup along the smooth, taut backside. Yuri's mouth moves back up to Victor's throat. His hips are demanding as they gyrate against Victor's open fly. Victor is commando and Yuri's erection, encased in those damned hot shorts, grazes Victor's throbbing skin on the rotations.

The Russian laughs and gives Yuri's butt cheeks a squeeze. Yuri removes his lips from Victor’s neck to rise up on his elbows. “Hmm?” he asks as Victor chuckles.

“Your hips. It’s like the video.”

Yuri smiles knowingly, gyrates all the harder, and returns to Victor’s clavicle. He mutters through his teeth: "Be my coach, Victor..." while champing down Victor's abdomen until he reaches a hip bone. Victor scratches his nails along Yuri's scalp, coursing his fingers through the thick black hair again and again. Yuri vents the sweetest little moans in response as he sucks on the divot of skin in the crease of Victor's pelvis. Victor can't believe he's lying here taking this. He never imagined it this way. Never saw himself so submissive. Yuri's supposed to be all shyness and insecurity! There's a part of Victor that's not surprised, but another part that wants to take the power back. In protest, Victor bucks his hips, hard. 

Yuri laughs when Victor's shaft thrusts out of the pants-fly and rubs up against his cheek. Yuri carefully slides the final offending garment off over Victor's hips, knees, ankles, and then his fingers travel lazily back up the path the pants came down. The prickling gooseflesh makes Victor give up. This is Yuri from the banquet, but drunk on lust, not booze. This is his Eros. Just enjoy it! Victor's nails graze Yuri's scalp again. 

It tickles. It's distracting. Yuri grabs Victor's hands, holds both fists down on either side of his coach's hips. Yuri's face, his mouth, hover just out of reach above Victor's cock. 

Then Yuri fucking Katsuki takes a moment to look up into Victor's eyes. He doesn't look like the bestial Eros he's been for the past 10 minutes. His eyes seem pleading, questioning, needing to know if this is okay. Victor licks his lower lip, nods in response, and bucks, gently this time. Yuri smiles. And its the smile of Agape, of adoration, that goofy damn grin that saturates everyone's heart. Keeping his eyes on Victor's, Yuri lowers his face slowly, until just above the tip, he sticks out his tongue and dabbles playfully at the pre-cum. 

"Ebat' tebya, Yuri!" Victor gasps. 

"Fuck you, too, Victor," Yuri breathes, grips Victor's wrists harder, pressing them painfully down, and takes Victor in his mouth, all at once, hot and wet and kneading.

Victor’s first instinct is to throw his head back, luxuriate in the tangles of sensation. But his greedy eyes want to watch. His brain begs to stay engaged; awake to the image of Yuri’s head bobbing between his legs. This can’t be real. Yuri's juicy mouth undulates like he's sucked cock for a goddam living! How is this possible? The base of Victor's spine is exploding, every muscle clenching and releasing. Was it the agonizing buildup? His mind reels away, stops forming words. He can feel assaults of pleasure in his cheekbones, behind his eyes, up along the back of his skull. Every synapse fights to escape Victor's constricted body.

And there’s only one way out.

Victor breaks Yuri's hold, grasps his lover's sweaty dark hair in both fists. Yuri gags, but clamps his lips down, siphoning Victor's cum with one powerful inhale. His mouth is slow as it slides up and away, tongue pressing down to torture the last fleeing pulses. Victor collapses, disintegrates, tries to breathe. His eyes buried in the crook of his own elbow, tossed over the top half of his face. His other hand reaches down for his lover.

Yuri kisses that hand and crawls up the bed to Victor; flops down on his side, with one arm draped over Victor's midsection. He's panting. He can't believe he did all that to Victor, with barely a word. His mind was in full competition mode, blank, only trying to prove himself. Now a rush of words, thoughts, and feelings are choking him like... Oh damn, like Victor's semen! He knows what this feels like now... with Victor. His whole body shakes with the relief... but also a twinge of fear and guilt.

"Victor. I... g-got carried away..." 

"Yuri." Victor removes his arm from his eyes and turns his head to look at this surprising man. "Tell me. How are you so good? I didn't expect..." 

Yuri blushes. He curls a leg over, spooning into Victor's side. "Um-uh... shyness isn't the, the uh, same as inexperience?" He offers. 

Victor gives him a dry look that says there's more to this story. “Everyone back in Japan said you’d never dated, never even had a girlfriend.” Silence settles over the room. Victor waits. 

Yuri's mind races, he can't look at Victor anymore, he buries his face, the blush travels down his body and his words ejaculate out: "Did you expect me to be terrible?!"

"Of course not." Victor chides himself, _sort of, actually_. And Yuri feels it.

His palm flattens into Victor's pectoral as he pushes up, chest puffy, lips set impish and barks: "What do you want me to say?! I've traveled the world as a professional athlete for more than a quarter of my life!" He gets pouty. "And, oh, yeah, Grindr exists!"

Victor’s understanding smile could light Barcelona in a blackout. "It's okay, detka. I was surprised, but pleasantly so." His little innocent piggy! Should've known; no one dirty dances like Drunk Yuri without any sexual experience at all. There's a tiny part of him that mourns for the imaginary virginity he thought he might have taken. Yuri squirms beside him and Victor can feel his little heart racing.

Victor sighs, "I didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable." 

Yuri shakes his head. "It's not you. It's like everything else with us. I feel inadequate and overcompensate to prove myself." 

Victor slides to his side, facing Yuri. "And like everything else, you're misreading the situation. I'm not more experienced than you." 

"Shut up, Victor." And Yuri shoves him.

"I was more Tinder then Grindr, Yuri. I've had plenty of women, not many men. And the men I've been with..." Victor's eyes cut away, and his smile etches wistful like a feather dances on his cheek. 

"You smile like that at Chris sometimes." It wasn't a question. 

"Yes." Then he fixes Yuri with eyes of such unwavering certainty, there is no doubting Victor's loyalty. "But nothing long term, no real relationships, with a man, anyway."

Yuri nods. "I'm the same. One long-distance girlfriend, early in college," he swallows, "She, uh, wrote 'Yuri On Ice' for me."

"I thought it must have been composed by someone who loved you." He watches Yuri’s expression change, his eyes drift off into a memory.

“Love may be a strong word for how she felt… but she wanted us to be more than I could...” he inhales heavily, “I couldn’t be close to her, emotionally. I couldn’t be close to anyone, back then.” Yuri sighs, closes his eyes. “But, being alone, it was easy to find the _other_ kind of…” he swallows, still nervous for no reason, “Uh… companionship. You know?” 

“Right.” Victor nods. “No commitments. That makes it easier when you’re traveling all the time.” He’s trying to help Yuri normalize those experiences, because clearly his fiancé feels ashamed for having meaningless hookups. “No one to answer to, no expectations.” 

“It…my…that side of myself,” 

“Your glorious Eros,” Victor smiles, running a feather-light touch along the outside of Yuri’s thigh, draped over his middle. 

“It was so much easier to deal with, that way… and I didn’t do much, _real…_ , um…” Yuri stutters. 

“Penetrative sex?” Victor helps him along. 

“R-right. That.” He swallows, “Ah-afraid of diseases, you know?”

“And that’s why you’re so good at…” 

Yuri’s voice is sheepish and small, speaking into Victor’s shoulder: “Hai.” 

The Russian makes up his mind and rolls over to straddle Yuri. "It's late. And I can't let you fall asleep, yet." His hands rove Yuri's bare, rippling, chest; the pads of his fingers gripping, caressing. Yuri’s erection jolts at the sight of Victor’s fingers flaring and flattening along his musculature. Yuri looks up and Victor is smiling appreciation. His fingertips find the edge of the spandex Yuri's inexplicably still wearing, peeling it away. 

"Victor, no, that's not..." he's fully exposed and hard as hell before Victor for the first time ever, "n-n-necessary..." he swallows. Victor keeps his eyes on Yuri's quivering genitals as his hand finds some lube tucked away in one of his bags on the floor. Yuri's heart races, panicking almost. He sits up. "I'm drunk on you, Victor!" Yuri exclaims. This stops Victor. "I don't drink before competing and I can't do this either. We're going to completely fuck up my routine!"

Victor considers, very briefly, then jokes, "Or make it much better." He rubs the lube between his hands. "I can't imagine how you'll dance Eros for me now that you've tasted my..."

"Victor!"

"I know you need to sleep for tomorrow," he purrs, straddling Yuri's knees, "but I am confident you need _this_ too." And he winks, "Listen to your coach!"

Yuri can't stand it. He knows Victor's right. He has to cum. His balls ache, his dick is sore with it. He closes his eyes, hangs his head, tries to catch his rabid breath. Then he looks up, those dark eyes full of determination. "Hai, Vitya takara." And he slumps back down, resting his shoulders in the pillow, still craning his neck to watch.

"Don't worry, detka, I'll make it quick."

Victor is a terrible liar. Once he's begun to work his lubed hands on Yuri's twitching shaft, he knows he'll never make this quick. He has to draw it out. Yuri's faces, the expressions that so scintillate on the ice, are now rawer, dirtier, needful and hazy, and all for Victor! He's raging hard again and he must do something about it. 

Yuri throws his head back, gasps for air, panting "Hai... Vitya... hai..." in broken, rasping breaths. Victor looks up and can't see Yuri's face anymore. He smiles. He'll surprise him, then. He pops his lips around Yuri's head and lavishes it with syrupy enthusiasm. Yuri's throat rolls out a long "ahhhh-h-h" in a series of successive shuddering h's that rake through his muscles. His nails dig into Victor's shoulders and he curls his torso towards his fiancé, cries out his name, as he finishes, deep in Victor's throat.

That was faster than Victor intended. Oh well, more time for... "Hmmm, delicious, dorogoy," his lubed fingers slide down, over Yuri's spent sack, down to his puckered... 

"Stop. Stop!" Yuri pushes Victor's shoulder away. "Please, Victor..." Yuri tries to catch his breath again and leans up on his elbows. Victor isn't looking at Yuri's face, but at his own member, stroking slowly. Victor isn't thinking. His eyes are glazed and gone. He doesn't want to hear Yuri. He grips Yuri's hips and pulls up, positioning that perfect ass into his lap. His finger continues to play and swirl. Yuri is panting in response. It’s so delicious a sound. _Please say yes, again, Yuri._ Victor digs the nails of his free hand into his lover's thigh. 

Yuri struggles to twist free. His voice is compassion incarnate when he whispers, "We have to stop, Vitya takara." 

Victor's eyes clench shut, he grits out through his teeth, "How can we?" His dick rides up between Yuri's legs, stroking, begging. "We _need_ this, you and I," his voice is strangled.

Yuri can't stand it. "We do!" He rolls his groin along Victor's erection, making Victor's hopeful eyes shoot to Yuri's for confirmation. The gaze he finds is one of earnest love. "I need you, I want you, Vitya, but we can't." Yuri sits up as much as he can in Victor's grip. His emotions swirl. Pride that his body, his Eros, could so consume this Adonis, his one and only idol, fights with sympathy, frustration, that they can't make love over and over all night long, now that everything between them _finally_ makes sense. His fingers find Victor's bicep, clenching and massaging. "We've got the rest of our lives to celebrate this amazing year." Finally he frees himself, scooches up the bed and away. 

"Detka... Yurachka," escapes Victor's lips in a whisper. The Russian looks down, ashamed, rejected, apologetic, struggling with his own fevered lust that must be denied. 

"It's okay..." Yuri's voice is angelic, too good for Victor, too good for anyone, he touches the tip of Victor's chin. "Stop."

Victor's breath escapes in a sob. He finally looks up and sees Yuri's eyes and stops moving. Stops breathing. Swallows. Yuri sets himself on his knees and reaches for Victor. Cradles the beautiful man's silver head against his chest. "If I can't drink before…" Yuri chokes and wets his lips, "I certainly can't do _that_ " He strokes Victor's hair, kisses his crown, and with a raspy laugh, "Imagine how sore I'd be!"

Victor sniffles, composing himself, "Yes, of course, you're so tight and small..." he coughs a laugh into Yuri's skin. "After we finally make love, your body will never be the same!" 

He's joking, of course, but hearing the return of Victor's playful bravado sets Yuri's heart on fire. He hugs Victor as close as his spent muscles can handle. Yuri is joyous, exhalant as he laughs, flopping back onto the bed, pulling Victor down. 

"Come, hold me, Vitya," he pets and paws at Victor's shoulders, "Talk to me until we fall asleep." 

Victor rolls onto his back and takes Yuri in his arms. They tell each other stories. Short ones, because they are asleep in no time.

.....................

Yuri's brushing his teeth when Victor returns to the hotel room. Victor joins him in the bathroom and begins undressing to shower. He'd gone out earlier still smelling of Yuri and their night together. He needs to get ready fast or they'll be late for practice. He turns on the water.

“You know my routine is blown today,” the wet-haired skater gurgles around his toothbrush.

Victor swirls with a flourishing swat to Yuri’s left butt cheek. “Don’t you dare say that!” he scolds, then leans in, kisses Yuri’s temple, “If anything, you’ll skate the program of your life with those little bits of me inside you!” Yuri spits his tooth brush out across the room.

“Victor!!” he chokes, proceeding into a fit of coughs that turn his bare chest as pink as his face. Victor steps into the steaming shower.

“Don’t gag _again,_ dorogoy,” Victor suds up his hair, “and don’t spit me up either,” he purrs, tilting his head into the stream of water, unable to hear if Yuri responds.

Fuck. Yuri will never be able to skate his short program like this. He’s not going to have the same innocent energy in Eros! That soft sensuality that draws people in. How can he radiate it? While even after brushing, his mouth still tastes like Victor! At this rate, he still won't be recovered by tomorrow and he won't feel the immaturity of the first half of his 'Yuri on Ice!' song. He’s screwed. Literally and figuratively. But he doesn't whine about it anymore to Victor. He leaves the bathroom. Collects his glasses, finishes dressing, begins to bundle up for the cold. The shower switches off and Yuri remembers that the towels are out of reach. 

"Here." He swings into the room, retrieves a clean towel from the bar, and holds it out for Victor. His fiancé musses that flawless face in the soft fabric, then wraps it around his midsection and steps out. Victor's eyes scan Yuri, concerned.

"You don't..." his mouth ticks, looking away. The word 'regret' singes the air, unspoken. Yuri closes the distance, takes Victor's right hand and kisses the smooth golden band.

"No. Never." He smiles up, tight lipped and adorable. His head bobs, "And thank you for letting me sleep in this morning. I needed that." Yuri stands before the mirror and begins to add product to his hair, as Victor dresses. The skater looks back at his fiancé's reflection, as the man of his dreams slides both arms into a collared shirt, begins to do the buttons. The tail of the shirt hangs low, almost covering Victor's naked, glistening cheeks. The way they peek out from underneath sends Yuri's heart into spasms. His comb shudders in his hair. He clears his throat and Victor looks at him in the mirror. "So, um," Yuri swallows, "Where'd you go this morning, anyway?"

"To the beach, the boardwalk," Victor smiles, pulling up his pants. Then he snickers: "Yurio stalked me there."

Yuri's eyebrows hike, "Really?! I'm sure that wasn't awkward." And he runs his fingers through the slick strands, making finishing touches. Victor laughs, coming up beside Yuri to tie his tie. Their eyes meet in the mirror. They both blush. The afterglow is palpable. How are they going to get through this effing day?! Victor shakes his head; an earsplitting grin strains his lips. Yuri nods confirmation at his coach in the mirror. He feels exactly the same way. Finally satisfied with their reflections, the lovers turn to one another. 

There are no words. They look down at their gilded right hands, clasp them together.

\-------------------

“I told you so,” Yuri grumbles, his heart in his throat, as he exits the ice, strides past Victor.

Victor's chest rises and he forces a smile: “Sorry, not sorry?” His protégé's face is not amused, eyes cutting away. The Russian leans in with his arm around Yuri’s shoulder. “It won’t be so bad,” he whispers.

Yuri's hip secretively nudges Victor as they walk to the kiss and cry. “It just won’t be good enough," and then he shakes his head with a smirk " _Sorry, not sorry_ ," he mocks, "Thanks, coach!" There's a smile in his voice, though.

Everything is going to be all right.

....

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is happening.  
> Writing these two is my life now. I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Only one more episode?!? How will we LIVE?! From where will be draw air?!  
> ~ Sintina
> 
> PS- I use the name spellings from this site: http://yurionice.com/en/  
> I love the "uu" and "k", but I'm just used to seeing their names this other way.
> 
> I recommend my fav YOI fics and take requests here [Twitter @Sintinas](https://twitter.com/Sintinas)


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